


Pescadito

by ColdSushi (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuban Lance (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Spanish Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ColdSushi
Summary: Lance loves to swim.Sometimes that love gets him into trouble.





	Pescadito

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little headcannon I wanted to turn into a short story. 
> 
> **Disclaimer** 
> 
> There's a lot of Spanish and Cuban slang I mixed in here. I have translations in, so don't worry! 
> 
> I also would greatly appreciate if you guys gave me criticism, so I can write better stories in the future!
> 
> This is my first piece of Voltron writing, so don't expect me to bring the house down. I promise that I have something FAR greater in store, however!

Down the shore, two McClains stood in the water, swimming and splashing one another with glee. A little boy, with brown hair, deep blue eyes, and a spirit that resembled the ocean made use of his time at the shore to make note of all the little fish he'd seen. Pescadito, or, Little Fish is what they'd call him, ironically. The Ambia's ((friend, person of trust)) of the McClains would always watch the little boy swim, his nickname soon being drifted across town and changed plenty, to 'Pez que creció piernas' or, Fish that grew legs. Lance, or Pescadito, knew his Mother would be beyond angered at his arrival back home, but that was at the least of his worries at the moment. The sea needed him, she was calling his name. Bastilio was Lance's partner in crime. His oldest brother would take him out to the shore when his Mother wasn't around, the two staying with each other for hours; swimming and laughing. Bastilio's attention shifted, when he'd noticed a few people he'd recognized digging a hole. Bastilio quickly exited the water, running over to them and starting a conversation. He was sure that his brother would be fine. Lance could handle himself out in the water.

Pescadito's face enlightened at the sight of his brother's tight watch being broken, immediately running off into the depths of the water and diving in, letting himself float for a few seconds before swiming to the top. Lance smiled when he appeared out of the water, his long hair sticking to his head and cheeks. Lance inhaled deeply, diving down under and soon opening his eyes to the salty water below. His eyes seemed to light up, at the sight of shells that sparkled in the water, quickly beginning to scout for the one fit for a Queen. The one he'd gift to his mother.

"¿Dónde está el pescadito?" ((Where is the little fish?)) Bastilio's right hand spoke up, squinting as he fixed his glasses on his nose and scouted for Lance. Bastilio sprung up, yelling for his brother. "Lance! Lance! Dónde estás, where are you?!" Bastilio ran into the water, frantically searching for the small boy. He screeched out in surprise when Lance popped his head out of the water, shaking his wet hair and parting it from his eyes to look at his brother. "Lance! You almost gave me a heart attack! Sanaco! ((Fool!))" Lance held up the shell, waving it in his brothers face. "Basilo! I goddit! Is right hewe!" He fumbled over his words, squealing at the pink and gold glittered shell he got. Bastilio sighed, picking Lance up and walking onto the beach. It was probably a good time to head home, then. He waved goodbye at his friends, and walked over to a little dufflebag with towels and spare changing clothes. After getting to a private spot, he dried off the ecstatic boy, and slid on a fresh tank top on him. He allowed Lance to step into his flip flops, and used another towel to dry himself off, tying his thick curly hair into a lazy bun.

He knew they'd would never hear the end of it from their Mother once they'd get home. Bastilio slung the duffle bag onto his shoulders, sitting on his scooter and placing the young boy in front of him. He started the engine, hammering the scooter to get them home faster.

"Hola mamá, estamos de vuelta.." ((Hello Mom, we're back.)) Bastilio muttered, the house being too quiet for his liking. He put Lance down, -he'd been holding the boy since they'd gotten off the scooter- and began scouting for his mother and his mischevious siblings. He soon found them, sprawled out on his Mother's bed, asleep. He grimaced at the chancla in his Mother hand, but soon turned around to make his way to his room. He heard snickering, and Bastilio quickly stopped in his tracks, turning around and getting his square between the eyes by a chancla.

 

* * *

 

"You snuck out...Again?" Rogelio, the father to the five McClain children sent disappointed looks to his sons. "How many times have we gone over this, Bastilio. Especially to do something like that with your brother-" Rogelio tsked, continuing to eat his food. Lance huffed, poking at the Yuca con Mojo his mother prepared. Rogelio looked at Lance, glaring with mock anger before his glare softened to one of understanding. "I just, wish you boys would inform your Mother or I before going out. I'm mainly talking to you, Bastilio. You're the eldest. You have to monitor them. You can't go scooping your brother out to run the streets." "But Papá-" Bastilio tried to intervene. Rogelio shook his head, silencing him and continuing his meal.

Lance had forgotten all about giving his mother the shell.

Later that evening, Lance couldn't sleep. He was restless, and his mind wouldn't allow for his small body to relax and lull to sleep. The small boy climbed from out of the bed he shared with his older sisters, and onto the the floor, standing up and walking down the staircase, his tiny bare feet making no sound against the cold wood. He soon found what he was looking for, and he climbed onto the huge window sill that gave a splendid view of the night sky. Lance sat on his knees, his hands on the window as his eyes grew as wide as saucers, glistening at the many stars in the sky. "Lance? Is that you? I thought I heard someone creeping down the steps." Lance's father muttered, his long and curly hair out of its usual ponytail, and hanging loose. His father sat next to Lance, pulling the boy into his lap. "Papá, I wanna go up thewe one day." Lance gasped, watching as a shooting star shot past. His father chuckled. "When you grow up, hijo." He ran his fingers through Lance's long and slightly curly hair, kissing his forehead. "For now, you should be asleep." Rogelio hummed, letting Lance lay on his chest. "No puedo dormir, papá.." ((I cannot sleep, dad)) Lance yawned, curling into his father. Rogelio chuckled, continuing to pet his hair as he sang a lullaby, lulling his boy to sleep.

_"Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi amor_  
_Duérmete pedazo de mi corazón,_  
_Duérmete mi niño, que tengo que hacer,_  
_lavar tus pañales sentarme a coser_  
_Ese niño quiere que lo duerma yo,_  
_dormir en mis brazos y en mi corazón."_

 

* * *

 

Pescadito got his wish. He'd gone into space, and was now crossing universe's to save tbe galaxy from weird space cats.

He got a little more than what he wished for.

The blue paladin sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over and running his fingers over the surface of the item as he recalled what had happened the day he had found it. A few tears escaped from his eyes, falling directly down onto the shell. He missed the salt water, he missed his rowdy siblings, and his Abuela and Abuelo and his many, many cousins. He missed all of them. Lance sniffed, rubbing his eyes and swallowing back the wave of nausea that wanted to hit him. His mouth felt like it was sweating, as he remembered the taste of his mothers shredded pork and rice, the bile in the back of his throat begging for sweet relief. Lance swallowed it down, laying back on his bed and trying to forget that those memories he tried to suppress for so long had rekindled in his mind. He didn't need any homesickness at the moment, no thank you.

When it was time for dinner, Lance obviously wasn't interested in the meal Hunk tried to prepare. It seemed like it were some sort of salad and chopped up ingredients mixed in. Lance sighed. Sitting at the head of the table, Allura smiled at Hunk, giving him thanks for the meal he prepared. She scanned her eyes around the table, raising an eyebrow in confusion as she noticed a glum Lance poking at his food. "Lance, are you not going to eat?" She put down her fork, raising her hand at him. Lance shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "No. I'm...Not hungry." Lance fibbed. "Lance." A new voice popped up, belonging to Shiro. "If something's bothering you," He began. "Nothing's bothering me!" Lance snapped, pushing away from the table and quickly going back to his room. He threw himself down onto the bed, pulling a photo of his family out from under his pillow. "I got my wish, papá.." He smiled, a tear falling from his eye.

_I got it._


End file.
